Eternally Hungry

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I live in thoerical famishment,

where nothing satisfies my appetite.

I doodle grilled chickens,

my mouth crafting fountains of drool.

I dream of fluffy soufflés floating over fences.

 

My ribs are baby-back,

my fingers crispy and fried.

I laugh dark chocolate chuckles,

fudge syllables dancing from my mouth.

 

I inhale cheese steak in Philadelphia,

brisket in New Orleans.

I sleep in smokers and swim in gravy.

The world is my buffet, as I move from booth to booth, sampling each culture's creations.

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